The Counsel We Keep
by V. Laike
Summary: The words shouldn't have come as a surprise, and now their cards were all out on the table. Episode tag to "Sex and Violence."


Episode tag for "Sex and Violence." It ain't happy, folks. However, I can pretty much guarantee that whatever Kripke is gonna do will be one hundred times worse.

And speaking of Kripke, he and his cohorts own all things _Supernatural_-related. So I guess we have to trust him to take care of the boys. Be afraid. Be very afraid.

Also? This has already been Jossed by the promo to 4.15. But whatcha gonna do, ya know?

Thanks to the lovely betas Izhilzha and Kalquessa. Thank'ee kindly, ladies.

* * *

THE COUNSEL WE KEEP

by

V. Laike

They pulled into the motel parking lot as the sun started to dip in the west. The day had been one long, awkward silence. No idle conversation, no tunes, no nothing. Just Dean driving anywhere that wasn't Bedford, Iowa.

Sam finally spoke up, suggesting they get a room and grab some dinner. Dean pulled into a motel lot and waited in the car, its engine idling, while Sam went to check them in. When Sam returned with the room keys, Dean said nothing, merely moved the car and parked outside the door Sam indicated. Sam started to get out, reaching for his duffle in the back seat, but Dean just sat, staring out the window at seemingly nothing in particular.

Sam stopped, one leg out of the car, foot on the pavement as he turned back to Dean. "Hey." He quirked a nervous half-smile. "You comin' in or what?"

Dean sighed and darted a look at Sam before curling his lip in casual refusal. "Nah. I'm . . . I'm gonna drive a while."

Sam chuffed an unconvinced chuckle. "We've been driving all day, man. I just thought . . . " He watched his brother's profile for any indication of what he could say that might convince Dean to stay.

Dean shook his head. "I need some space." When Dean looked at him, Sam swallowed at the uncertainty and hurt he saw there.

"We're okay, right?"

Dean nodded, too quickly, Sam thought. "Yeah, we're good."

Unable to think what else to do, Sam got out of the car, hoisted his duffle onto his shoulder, and leaned in for one last word before closing the car door. "I've got my phone on, okay? In case you, I don't know, need a lift or something."

Dean nodded again, acknowledging the information, but his eyes had moved back to watching out the front window rather than looking at Sam.

Without another word, Sam closed the door and watched as his brother put the car in gear and pulled away. His stomach clenched with uncertainty and fear as the Impala turned out of the lot, the red glow of the tail lights receding, disappearing into the night.

* * *

Three hours later, Sam was pacing the room, ready to hotwire a car and go searching for his brother. He'd given up looking for a new case an hour ago, his ability to concentrate diminishing as his anxiety grew. The night was still young, but Dean could put away a lot of liquor in a three-hour period, and if he hadn't gone out with the intention of hustling pool or getting in on a card game—both of which required a clear head and quite possibly quick reflexes—well . . . Liquor had never really gotten in the way of a hook-up, but Sam suspected that Dean wasn't looking for female companionship tonight, either.

Sam was strung so tightly he almost jumped out of his skin when the knock came. Letting out a sigh of relief he flung open the door.

"Dean, you jerk. Did you forget your key—"

Ruby stood on the other side of the door, and Sam pursed his lips in frustration.

"Hey, Sam." She pushed past him and made her way into the room.

"What are you doing here, Ruby?"

She turned to face him. "I could ask you the same thing. What's the big idea, calling me then hanging up on me?"

Sam closed the door. "What?"

Ruby rolled her eyes, crossed her arms, and cocked out a hip. "A couple days ago. You called me, and when I picked up, you hung up. What gives?"

"Dean," he muttered in dismay and felt his stomach drop. He didn't know whether to be angry at Dean for the invasion of privacy or at himself for practically inviting Dean to act on his suspicions.

"Dean? That was Dean that called? On your phone? What the hell, Sam?"

"Don't start with me, Ruby. I left my phone on the table the other day. He must have—"

"—snooped through your phone list." Ruby threw her hands up in exasperation. "Good goin' there, hot shot."

Sam leveled a finger at her, his voice lowering to a more menacing tone. "I said don't start with me."

"So where's Big Brother now?"

Sam sighed as he sank onto one of the beds, pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration. "I don't know. He left about three hours ago. I haven't heard from him."

"What?" Ruby's tone held an impatience that Sam really didn't want to deal with at the moment.

"We had a fight. I said some things that—"

"That what? Hurt his feelings? Oh, grow up, Sam. He's a big boy. He can take care of himself."

Sam could feel the anger and frustration compounding with the worry. He sprang from the bed and paced to the other side of the room, trying to work off energy as well as get away from Ruby's nagging.

"You have no idea what you're talking about. I was under a siren's spell, and I said some things . . . that can't be unsaid."

Sam could hear the sneer in Ruby's voice. "So _that's_ what you've been up to for the past week. Taking out a siren. I could have told you it was bad news."

"Yeah, well, you didn't."

"So, what, she got to you? Big deal. You're still here. Dean came through. Kind of a surprise, actually."

Sam really, _really_ wasn't in the mood for Ruby's crap. He could feel the itch building inside of himself, longing to send her back where she came from. He curled the fingers of his right hand, rubbing them against the palm, fighting to control the urge to lash out.

"No. It went after Dean. Got to him, too. Then it poisoned me and turned us against each other."

"Wow. That's . . . creative."

"Shut up."

"So what did you say?"

Sam sighed heavily, the weight of his words still heavy in his chest. "I called him weak. Said he was holding me back."

"Well, he is."

Sam spun on Ruby. "What?"

Ruby threw out her hands. "Oh, come _on_, Sam. Ever since Dean was pulled out of the Pit, you've been holding back. This could all be over with, but nooooo, you're too scared of Big Brother to do what comes naturally."

Sam stormed over to Ruby, his height looming over her petite frame. "You don't get it, do you? I told him I don't need him."

"You don't. And you know it."

Sam swallowed convulsively as he tightened his jaw. "Get out."

Ruby stepped forward, and her voice took on a more gentle tone. She placed her hands flat on his chest, caressing gently. "C'mon, Sam. You know we're right. Look, I've got a lead on Lilith. You come with me now, we can finish this, and you and Dean get to lead long, healthy lives together, fighting everyday evil like poltergeists and vampires." She looked up at him through dark lashes.

Sam clasped her wrists in his large hands, stilling them as they roamed their way to more inviting places.

"He doesn't trust you, you know. If we do this now, you can prove to him he's wrong. It'll all be worth it." She leaned in, her voice dropping almost to a whisper. "Do you even know for sure that he's coming back?"

Sam closed his eyes and turned his head in denial. "No. No! I'm not leaving him."

Ruby pulled away. "You have to, Sam. It has to be you. You know it has to be you."

He took a deep breath, nostrils flaring. God forgive him, he wanted this so badly. To do something only _he_ could do. To put a stop to all the demons and demonic forces and stop Lilith and avenge his brother's death and save the world. It would feel so good. To use his powers, to unleash his frustration and his anger and his rage—

"Okay."

"Okay, what?" Ruby's eyes bore into him, demanding full admission.

"I'll come with you now. But I have to call Dean first."

"No."

"Then I need to leave a note."

"No, Sam. He'll just try to find you and stop you. He can't know."

"But if I'm not here when he gets back—"

"No, Sam," she said more firmly. "And leave your cell phone here. If you take it with you, he'll use the GPS like he did the last time." Ruby stepped up to Sam and reached into his pocket, slowly and with purpose.

Sam sucked in a breath, clenching his jaw as she pulled her hand out of his pocket. She clutched the phone for a moment, then deliberately placed it on the nearby table. He stood, firming his resolve as Ruby retrieved his jacket from the chair where he'd tossed it. She held it out to him with an attitude of defiance and determination.

"Here," she said. "We've got a long drive."

Sam took his jacket and picked up his duffle bag. He followed her out the door, and as he locked the room behind him, he wondered briefly if he _had_ given Dean the extra key. Didn't really matter. Dean could pick a lock as well as anyone. He used this thought to counter the fact that he was leaving his brother—again—with no explanation, no reason other than the words that rang through his head. _You're weak. You're scared. I'm better, stronger, smarter. You spend your time whining. Boo hoo._

_I swear I'll make it up to you, Dean. When this is all over. I promise._

* * *

Dean glanced at his watch as he cracked open the fourth of the six-pack next to him. It had been two and a half hours since he'd stopped at the convenience store on the way out of town. Sam would be worried by now.

Or not.

He'd be back in the room pacing a hole in the floor, debating whether or not to break the silence and call Dean's cell phone.

Or out with Ruby hunting down Lilith, now that his weak, scared, whiny-assed little bitch of a brother wasn't holding him back like a lead weight.

He took a pull of his beer, savoring the bite as it slid down his throat, and leaned back against the Impala's fender to gaze into the endless night above him.

He'd meant what he'd said, but it shouldn't have come as any surprise to Sam. He'd been up-front with his brother because he'd learned the danger and the pain that came with keeping secrets. But every time he turned around, he was finding out something else that Sam was keeping from him.

Now their cards were all out on the table.

Sam's words shouldn't have come as a surprise either, he supposed. Dean knew Sam was stronger than himself; hell, he'd said as much, before the Pit. But to hear what Sam really thought—deep inside—in that cruel, sarcastic, mocking voice . . . cut as sharp and as deep as any of Alistair's blades ever had.

He could leave, couldn't he? Just get in the car and drive and drive and never stop. Fight what evil he found on the way to nowhere and go down swinging, maybe even take out Lilith somewhere along the line. Die with his boots on. 'Cause if this was sad, he'd rather end bloody.

He felt the air shift around him, and he knew without looking that he had company.

"The heavens declare the glory of God; and the firmament showeth His handiwork."

Dean didn't need to shift his gaze; he could see Castiel out of the corner of his eye just fine. "Not exactly what I was thinking."

Castiel shifted his own gaze from the stars above to the man beside him. "Where's Sam?"

Dean took another swig of his brew. "Don't know, don't care," he said, but the dismissal rang hollow.

"You care," Castiel said.

Dean looked the angel in the eye now. "Yeah? And how would you know?"

"Because he's your brother."

Dean looked away again, this time watching the empty field across the road. "The Sam I knew is gone."

"The man who is your brother is not yet lost."

Dean shook his head, scuffed a toe of his boot in the dirt. "You didn't hear him. He doesn't need me. He doesn't want me. I'm _weak_."

"Dean, those words, they were not from Sam—"

Dean shot him a look. "Yeah, they were."

"Not Sam as you know him. They were from the part of him that doesn't want to be stopped. That wants control over the rest. His inner struggle is becoming more difficult, and the siren's poison—"

"Oh, so you knew about that, did you?" Dean couldn't help the sarcasm that colored his tone.

"I might not always be present, but I am always made aware."

Dean raised his eyebrows. What was it with this guy and all his cryptic crap?

"Sam needs you, Dean. From birth, God placed the two of you in a position to protect one another."

"And what the hell does that mean?"

"It is not coincidence that you are brothers."

"Well, that clears that up."

"Dean, your brother is on a—"

"—dangerous path. I've got to stop him. Yeah. I know."

"And you will not be able to help him if you're not with him."

Dean sighed. It was true. Sam was hiding things, and Dean certainly wouldn't get any answers drinking beer at the side of the road in the middle of nowhere. And the thought of Ruby getting her demonic claws any further into his brother made Dean's skin crawl.

When had he ever given up—when had he ever given _Sam_ up—without a fight?

Dean stared again into the night sky. He knew the moment he was alone.

* * *

It took a half an hour to get back to the motel. He pulled up to the curb, then climbed the stairs to their second level room. Belatedly, he realized he didn't have a key, so he pounded firmly, fearful of what he would—or wouldn't—find.

When no response came, he muttered a few choice words about friggin' stupid forgotten keys and friggin' useless psychic crap that couldn't even see the need for stupid forgotten keys as he pulled out his lock pick kit. When the tumbler gave, he flung the door open and stepped quickly into the room.

The lights were out, and he was reasonably sure no one was home. Maybe Sam had gone out to grab a bite. Or was out looking for Dean. "Sam?" he called as he flipped on the light switch.

The room stood empty, as if he were the first to open the door that day. No duffle on the bed, no toiletry kit in the bathroom. Only a solitary cell phone lay on the table. No note, no forwarding address, no nothing.

Dean picked up the cell phone and idly thumbed through the most recent calls before switching it to its main display. With a weary sigh, he sank onto the nearest bed and pulled his hands down his face as a terrifying sense of déjà vu—only a thousand times worse—came over him.

"Damn it, Sam. What am I supposed to do?"

_finis_

_

* * *

Additional A/N: Castiel quotes Psalm 19:1 (21st Century King James Version).  
_


End file.
